


The real things of life

by Miss_Magali82



Series: The real things of Life [1]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Student/Teacher, F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-10
Updated: 2016-08-10
Packaged: 2018-08-07 22:14:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7731736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Magali82/pseuds/Miss_Magali82
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometime when you're a student, being always late it's a big problem, but not when you're Rey Kenobi who ends up in a hunky Professor.<br/>A pity really, because she doesn't know who he is.</p>
<p>First episode for my Star Wars AU series " The real Things of Life".</p>
            </blockquote>





	The real things of life

 

 

 

_Sometime when you're a student, being always late it's a big problem, but not when you're Rey Kenobi who ends up in a hunky Professor._

_A pity really, because she doesn't know who he is._

 

 

**The real things of life** _  
_

 

_The real things of life  
neither are studied nor learned,_

_but are encountered_

 

_\- Oscar Wilde -_

 

 

 

 

 

-Wait a minute! _Please_!-

Every day the same scene: a little storm runs across the corridor.

A storm with strange, milky-green eyes, freckles and a lot of books stuck in a scruffy leather bag.  
On the opposite wall, the clock is set on six o'clock p.m, and her desperate yells echo in the empty department.  
And as usual, she meets her _not so_ stranger anymore.  
Every day he does the only gesture to save her from her laziness: raise an hand, stop the sliding doors and wait with a little, ironic smile.  
-Thank you so much!-  
The girl's voice is high behind the panting, hiding a willing to smile and laugh at same time.   
Light curly brown hair are distractedly knotted in a messy braid. She's tall enough, compared to other women, but next to him she seems small, even tiny.  
Well.  
_Everyone_ could be small and tiny near Professor Solo.  
\- Thanks for saving my butt once more - she starts to tell, rising her grateful glance on him. - I know, I know, I'm late, _again_. And I risk to lose my last bus to get home, _again_!-  
She wants to talk. She _needs_ to talk, maybe to fill these bunch of quite seconds until arrives the final _bling_ , when silence sucks _._ Generally he loves her noisy chatting about anything 'cause sometimes it feels good to break his routine. It's like he finds something new on this little hurricane everytime she has an unusual spark in her big hazel eyes: from start, that tartan blouse _is_ _new?_

-Everything is fine?-  
That polite deep tune seems to embarass her. She nods, quickly, start to collect strenght and fast to run like an hunted hare out of the elevator, run out and reach the bus stop among St. Giles Street.  
-These are my first days in Oxford. I get still confused between the department hour of closure and my bus numbers! Even if I have everything on my cell phone...and I'm not very tidy, you should see my bag....well maybe that's the problem right? Thanks God I find you every night!-  
A short return of her high, bright voice and she's over. Like a real storm.  
She came, she crush, she goes away.

Her first days in a new city.   
That explains many things: her familiar approach to a Professor, besides her need to find new contacts.  
She doesn't know him and his terrible fame among students, graduates, colleagues. His closest friend, a very nerd one, coined a peculiar nickname for the terrifiyng academic-career slayer Benjamin Solo: the _Jedi killer_ , responsible of the highest numbers of exam failures in the last two years. He's very strict, his name a very dark legend in Oxford University.  
And now, this harsh Professor found another aspect of a fresher who accidentaly pleases his tastes.  
Her high, trill voice.

 

 

-  
  
  
  
  
  


It happened three days ago, when their elevator appointments started.  
First one was her eyes. It could be barely impossible ignore those colours: an extraordinary mix of pale green, light brown and gold. He blamed himself for hours but he couldn't stop to think how shiny as a sun's dazzle on a lake they could be.

- _Thank you, thank you, thank you!_ \- the first time they met she repeated that little chanting with short breath, rising her head to face him . She shutted her mouth and said nothing more, as something drained her troath. A bit of red tinted her cheeks, the only visible signs of her confusion; maybe she realized her bravery, realized who he was. Ben was certain that they would never meet again.

But there was a second meeting. Two days ago. Same place, same dazzling eyes, same daring request and new features of her face hit him: wild freckles.  
On forehead, on nose tip, on cheekbones. He dared a rush glance on exposed neck's skin and - _yes_ \- they were there. More evident than the sun in a new day, for the flush of the hurrying. They seemed - _adorable_. Perfect for her sun-backed skin,inusual for british girl 'cause she is, never doubt of it: she had the accent, even if she'd use slang or more colloquial language... _country girl maybe?  
_ That evening, a disenchanted professor came home wondering how her bronzed skin would taste under his lips.  
Those very unappropriate, _weird_ , _delyghtful_ thoughts never occured to him ever on a young fresher before.  
There should be an explanation behind this playful madness. There would always be one. 

He found the answer during their third appointment.  
Her scent. Not a real perfume, more like an addictive natural smell.   
Orange _or lemon_ , cinnamon and spice.  
God, can he really compare her to one of those incredible _"Old Rebellion"_ muffins?  
Shit, if Poe would know about it, will mock him for years.  
But a part of Ben thinks that he does that already.  
  
Every day, they're very close in the small elevator.  
Bright eyes, freckles, smell and voice combined together are an exciting recipe for naughty dreams destined to - _alas_ \- remain dreams. The policy of the University of Oxford is very strict about professor/student relationships and his last wish would pass _definitively_ out of that line.  
-Good night, Professor Solo.-  
Ben waves an hand to the keeper.  
-You too, Mitaka.-  
It will be a real good one? He's not sure. Not at all. Quickly, he brings his phone an send a text. When you have troubles you always need friends' wise advices.  
Someone capable of helping you to stand on the right part of the line.  
Luckily, Poe Dameron, manager and owner of one most famous pub in Oxford, has no one of these traits: he's smart, sarcastic, natural-born cocky. He knows Ben from childhood and supported him, when his father was away for one of his potential, magical, deadly work trips around the world, and always ready to give a smile.   
Behind Poe's jokes there is a world of understanding and compassion.  
After every laugh, you can always find an hanging hand.  
Ben's phone rings in answer.  
  


< _Waiting for U, big man. Phasma is here. >_  
  


Phasma.  
Wonderful.  
The cocky friend and the wise one.  
Perfect match for the evening, and best distraction from his little, bright hurricane.  
  


 

-

 

 

Rey's craving for learning is one of her well known qualities.  
Her grandad instructed her since she was little, and you can say the fruit doesn't fall far from the tree: she has the stubborness, resolution, and a strong aptitude to achieve her results with her own abilities, just like him.  
She was a wild, strong girl and now she's a young woman with a world of prospects at her feet.   
When Rey's parents died in a car accident near Canterbury, she was only five. She cried when anyone else can see her, in her bedroom. Only one person saw her tears.  
  


Grandad.

 

Still tall, handsome, same green eyes of hers and a hint of red in his thick grey beard.   
One of the most famous professor of Philosophy at London University. A great shadow against her bedroom doorframe and a big, warm smile to drain her tears.  
-Don' t be afraid, dear. I'm here.-  
No empty, silly question about her feelings. They were awfully clear. Grandad hated waist time with obvious facts and the most obvious one was his nephiew's grief.  
As her closest relative, he taken Rey to London, providing every aspect of her new life: excellent instruction, a good place to live anch first of all, love.  
Every day spent togheter became an attempt to give this lonely girl a new family: smaller but complete. Despite all tries, Rey's attitude to focus on herself and find alone the energy and the sources to reach what she wants, still. Like a candle light. Like a little, stubborn light star.  
Professor Kenobi noticed it.

\- She's like her mother.- once his grandfather sighed to his best friend during a mates reunion in Oxford.  
-Curious. If I remember correctly, you always complained about your daughter's most peculiar signs. And Jinny was your perfect copy, wasn't she?-  
-Thanks, Luke. Your compassion is still admirable through years.-

When Rey was only ten and discovered what she would do in her life, Professor Kenobi said few words with a quick smile.  
The same she told to Jinny a long, long time ago.  
-These are your first steps, sunbeam. I'm proud of you.-  
Sunbeam. Her nickname. She deserve that for her personality.  
Rey always loves History and old past. Her natural attitude for question emerged in their first return in Canterbury, two years after their terrible loss.

Her grandad took her around the most signifciant city places, kept the best for last.   
Rey stared with open mouth, barely breathing, upon the massive city cathedral façade.  
  
-Grandaddy- she whispered - _How did they built this_?-  
How did they built this?  
With which materials?  
With which instruments?  
And for _how long?  
_ Questions needs answer and it happened Rey Kenobi - her former second name after grandad adopt her- always had great skills to find these.  
She _loves_ finding solutions, resolve misterious stories deep buried in the ages.  
Like that one of Canterbury's Cathedral bases.  
Years by years, answer by answer, she flew away from London to a place not so far: Oxford University, Exeter College, with Modern History degree course.  
Actually, first days her move after were- _well_.

Terrible. 

She refused any help from Grandad: no intercessions, no easy way at all. Even to find a good place to stay. She discovered alone a class mate with share an apartment in Iffley Road, placed her registration, took informations about lessons to run, visited her History department and- get lost in a new city.  
Becoming a latecomer .  
Lost her bus.  
Complained herself for the Kenobi's special stubborness.  
Found _him_.

 

 

-

 

 

  
  
The first day Rey met him she was terrible late.  
Finn invited her to meet other students at the pub nearby the Exeter College.   
This was the official excuse.  
The real one Rey suspected involved that hot guy with scruffy beard, short black hair and mischievous smirk, the one very good with his dances moves, so good he could make you dance your intimate parts. His housemate was totally down for him and -unfortunately- totally involved on this ridiculous idea to tell nothing to him.  
-If you can't try, you'll never know- she bursted once, with a quick glance to his dark red cheek.  
-He never noticed me _in that way_. I'm just another pub costumer.-  
That's could be odd. By the way Dameron looked to Finn when he comes into their section for ordinations -two cinnamons-orange coffee to go, hot and spicy- she's be rather sure he is wrong. That night was perfect for her plan: steal Finn's phone, send a message and patiently, see how the event will progress.  
The only flaw in her plan it could be only one: herself.

All of that damn enchantment was for that Rey's tie to books and research. Once she started, the slow process of scavenging dates, events, evidences brought her in a sort of blind tunnel where present time became irrelevant.  
Until present time claimed her by her phone alarm.  
Like that night of three days ago.  
And two days ago.  
And yesterday.

Many people called her a genius but genius sometimes had terrible lacks in mere practice matters. Besides, a genius must always overcome great victories: see a new friend wins his shyness and talk, even with his crush - with no help from others, except a little push in the right direction during the dinner- _order all her books in her new home_ and- find _him_.  
_Him_ and his large, long-fingered hand holding the elevator door, gently, waiting for her.  
Tonight wil be different: no rush, no pleas, no frantic pants. Collecting her books and shutting the laptop, Rey looks the study room clock and smiles.  
Perfectly in-time. With a deep breath, she open the door.  
  


 

_-_

 

 

_God. He's - so deliciously tall_.

Stupid, first thought blowed up in her mind during their first encounter.  
Rey is accostumed to live among tall people: his dad was tall, even her mum. So Grandaddy.  
But for the first time in her life, she felt _small._ Tiny. A fragile little thing.   
A rolling, powerful parallel burst in her mind: there they were, a pet in front of her big predator.  
It doesn't matter that he appeared calm and kind, with a ghostly smile on his full, soft, large red lips. His mannerism talked the secret language of authority.

Broad shoulders, large chest uselessly hidden under fine grey cotton shirt. Pale skin upon sharp cheekbones and _again_ those lips. They were impossible to ignore. A sweet accent in balance with his strong features.   
If all that wasn't enough, he had the most thick, long-curled , brilliant black hair she ever seen and-  
-Got it. Come on!-  
He stopped the elevator. He spoke with his deep, warm voice that ran in her hears, became a thunder, and stroked her spine.  
Rey can't help herself to appear as a naive little girl with experience of nothing. She had her dates in past. She knew the trembling wait before kissing, the sated satisfaction. Fingers intertwine other fingers, clotes open for a clumsy series of caress and first explorations, the secret promise of a smile but never - _never_ \- of this little moments can prepare herself to thunders, strokes and desperate wishes that sneaks in her mind during her dreams. 

When he look at her, Rey feels her heartbeat runs until reach her veins immediately under the skin. Every inch of her stirs a strange, overwhelming chant of want. With no reason, no strategy. A pure matter of crushing reaction at every aspect of him.  
His voice is made for make her shiver.  
Oh, the elevator. Rey sighs in relief and push the button and squeeze one of her books against her chest and wait for a bit longer.  
His height is made for dominate.

The red light point at the second floor.

His thik hair please her to grab long, dark locks an pull over until their faces are close enough for-

\- It seems you won your personal battle against time.-

Rey's heart jump, her stomach fluctuate in a strange, painful ecstasy. Damn it, she never was a stupid, awkward fresher chik. She desperately needs her pride and resolution. All she must do is collect herself and ignoring with a polite, warm smile that boiling soup of torment and aching peppered with pain placed in her mind, heart and gut.  
-Learn from own mistakes. Isn't it?- says as the sliding doors open.  
-You know- starts him, entering before her. His glance moves slowly on the mirrored wall and find hers. -It's quite strange hear something so simple from you.-  
Tease. A bit of provocation.   
It lays beyond his dark eyes, ready to be catch. Another smile curles on her lips.  
-Even banal?- suggests. - Grandaddy used to say that hundred times in a week. He thinks that sometimes the old common sense it would be a precious gift for a busy mind. Simplicity doesn't mean easy.-  
That bloody soup in her belly sputters as his smile lightly appears on the right corner of his mouth.  
-Your grandfather would be a smart person.-  
-You could be bet on it. He's one of the most fine and capable men I know. He raised me alone. I owe him a lot.-

With a smirk beneath her polite hand placed on her mouth, she assumes a sorrow expression.  
-I dare this is another common phrase.-  
-Common but true- he agree, just a second before the familiar _dling._   
It means ground floor, It means end of their skirmish. _  
-_ That's remind me my rudeness. I'm Rey- tells him after leave. -Rey Kenobi.-  
Everything would be expected but no his reatcion to know her name. That tall, handsome man freezes in the Department hall, wathcing Rey as if for the first time he really sees her. This time, the shiver on her spine was cold as liquid ice on her bones.  
-You're Professor Kenobi's nephew.-  
A blasted statement, not a question. 

_He know who she is_.

-Yes. Yes I am but how-  
-Professor Solo, is everything all right?-  
The ice coiled among them, _inside_ them becomes heavy, sharp daggers stabbed in their bodies.  
Rey's breath goes away, replaced by a terrible shyness struck.  
-You're Ben Solo.-  
There is no statement. There is a death sentence.

 

-

 

 

_The pure and simple truth_

_is rarely pure and never simple._

 

_\- Oscar Wilde -_

 

  
  
  
-And _then?_ -  
Poe's eyes wides with trepidation.  
-Told you, little curious bastard.- Ben slaps his empty glass on the bar, imagining to do the same with the face of his best friend.   
-Did she run away with tears in her eyes and broken heart in her poor chest?-  
\- May I remember you he never mentioned this pityful details?-  
\- Shame on you, Phasma!- says Poe louder with a bother look.  
-Thank you, Phasma.- yells Ben together.  
-May I have another round?- adds sharply -Or the pub owner is too involved pesting in gossip business to tend his job?-  
-First, you started to complain yourself. Second- Poe grabs the glass -Gimme that, before I think it would be better smash it on your grimy face.-

Phasma gives a short look to their friend's back and sighs.  
-He's right.-  
Now it's Ben's turn for an exasperating sigh. -Please. _Not even you_.-  
The short blonde hair woman chuckles. Tall, broad shouldered, she instill respect with her taylored dress. Gray and white. Perfect blouse under a fitting jacket. No make up and big, severe blue eyes.  
-Don't confuse me. There's no a heartbreaking story here but you're talking like it is.-  
A dark brow rise immedately. -Do I?-  
-Of course! Since the beginning. And you know better than me that: _this is impossible_.-  
Nothing to spat back. Ben looks away, defeated.

This story was a complete mistake from the beginnig. That bright, wonderful girl is a first year student. No matter what course is, the age gap stills.  
Worst of all, she is uncle Luke's best friend nephew.  
The girl he has heard so much about it during Skywalker-Solo family's dinner.  
A mere presence, only a name.  
Now this name have a lovely smile, shiny hazel eyes and soft brown hair to wish to dig his fingers.  
Her light voice is capable to become dark, deep and husky after their long kisses. And his dreams are full of kisses, short breaths and prayers and any sort of fantasies destined to remain fantasies.  
And - _no._ He must stop believing that he have seen somethings similar in her glance. In her words and repeated gesture to pull away a curl from left temple when she talks fast and hurry about little things. About nothing.  
How could be possible _nothing_ could be so _precious_ now?

 -You're right.-  
-As always.-  
A bitter smirk flashes on Ben's lips. - And modest too. Don't worry, I assure you where Miss Kenobi will be-  
- _Wait.-  
_ A new, whisky drink pops near Ben's hand.  
\- Miss Kenobi you said? Rey Kenobi?-  
It would be impossible for a human being but Poe's pupil are dilated like an howl's .  
-Your princess is _Peanut_?-  
Phasma looks to Ben. Ben does the same. Then, they're looking togheter to our friend.

-You're drunk.-  
-Like she said. First -and Ben starts to mimic Poe with a bit of wicked satisfaction -She's not my princess. Second, who the hell is this peanut?-  
Revenge is must served cold. Besides, this time the dish is still warm, offering a wonderful payback to a smart enemy. Too smart and too nerd.  
- _You know nothing_ , Ben Solo. Don't dare to hit my wonderful nose, listen to me!-  
Poe place his smartphone on the bar, digit a text.  
\- It happened I know someone really near to our Miss Kenobi.-  
-And?- Too late for understand and stop this silly game. -No. _Don't_ -  
- _Ooops_. I sent it!- Poe chants in return, showing what he did.  
-C'mon, guys. What are these dull expressions?-  
-I know I will regret it but _who is_ this _Finn guy_? Ben, _please_ , not in public. You're still a Professor and blow your best friend face is not a good deed.-  
-Oh, It's simple. Finn is our saviour!-  
  
< _What's up man? Never seen you tonight, even Peanut. Anything OK? >  
_

_< Hey Pilot. I worry about Peanut. She had no dinner tonight and she doesn't want to talk to me.>_

 

 

 

 

_-_

 

_  
  
  
Stupid.  
_

Hissing, Rey grabs a poor, innocent pencil from her pouch and places an heavy underline on her book. It is late afternoon, the study room is empty. A cold sunset is going down, surrounding the tables and the wooden libraries with a trembling red and lilac light. Autumn claims its place; soon, winds and yellow leaves, grimy and cloudy days will prepare Oxford for a freezing October.  
Lazy thoughts, pity tries to avoid this voice in her head.  
It's no really talkative, it has just few, cutting sentences.

_Fool.  
_

Like this one. And the first before.

_Idiot_.  
_Ooooh_. Probably, this is the best one. The perfect summary for her recent behavior.  
Rey closes the note book quickly, stretching her shoulder.

_Benjamin Solo_.

The youngest academic to achieve a preminent teaching post in all the Oxford University.  
A chosen one from his birth, son of two remarcable people in recent British History.

His mother is an eminent politician: many voices addresses Leia Organa as the imminent, new leader for the Labours. Strong woman with gentle smiles and iron will, she is famous for her verbal skills and smart mouth.  
His father-  
He's Rey's personal legend, model of bravery and intellect.  
Han Solo, one of the most famous archeologist in Great Britain. A personal story blurring in smuggle actions, incredible scandals, great discoveries. The most recent ones were suggested with Ben's help, like the exact location in Glastonbury of a new grave, really near to the folkloristic indications of the legendary King Arthur's.

_Benjamin Solo.  
_

A name in some newspaper title, spar, black and white pictures. He doesn't like to be famous as his father.  
Now, the last one, the most dangerous that she feels herself so irresistebly and violently attract to him.  
Time to leave. She even learned to be in time as avoid him.  
The third floor corridor echoes by her lonely steps. No one in the archives, nor in one ofthe class rooms situated on her right. She will go straight at home, hoping Finn would be already out for his first, official date with Poe: afster a clumsy start, these two little, gushy pigeons are on the right path for building something good. Rey saw his house mate exchanges many text with the guy and smile to her in a strange way.   
Her plans for an alone-night stand will be included the most junkie, full-fill-of-everything-edible pizza of Pizza Hut take away menu, Guinness and a old BBC Sherlock marathon. This means no Benedict Cumberbatch, no subtexted sexual tension with Irene Adler but only deductions, old pipes, black and white scenarios.  
She no need at all indulgent fantasies, suggestions, ridiculous open-eyes dream. She's nearly twenty and totally capable to discern reality from fairytales. The howling hole pearched in her heart by the simple fact to not see Professor Solo means nothing.  
Its suonds like a good memento, properly and wise.  
It seems a common destiny for everything seems strong and logic being destroyed by a simple glance. The one a tall, handsome man with dark eyes and a black shirt under a grey coat hooked on his left shoulder gives to her, stand on the elevator's cabin, an hand pressed on the door.  
  
Three days.  
Three days without her shouting voice, her run through the corridor, her scent.  
Three nights spent to think what he did wrong, feeling this new, unfamiliar sensation of loss and solitude.  
It' s born from nothing, for a fucking fate's trick and Ben hates be a simple, little chess piece involved in something so messy, so caothic and so utterly needing.

Be in charge was one of the most important life's prerogative. Had the intellect power to put together facts, understand these, prevent these it meant make a sense on his dark, deep struggling. A secret , black stringer buried in his heart.  
He still believes it all started from his family, mom's side.  
A granfather accused to be part od a secret organisation inner in the Government system, a parallel State with one achieve: overturn the Democracy in Great Britain with terroristic attacks. His final reedem. His uncle's battle to restore their family name.  
Mom's sometimes muttered about his desire to push the limit. Ben was always certain that he inherited this aspect from dad. Inside his mind he knows the truth. He always does.  
This is why he needs stabilities. Answers. The stoned truth beneath History.   
All of his efforts are were- just blown away. Perished under a little storm.  
  


God, he wants this storm.  
Her eyes upon him, her voice, even her freckles.  
With a low sigh, Ben still waiting near the elevator. The door opens after a soft _dling_ while the wall clock signs half past five in the noon.  
Maybe his temper woulld be Grandfather's heritage but he's son of the two most stubborn people on Earth.

Answer. Just one.

If this bloody answer will never stay in Rey's paces stop in the corridor, in her wide-eyed while meeting his _,_ he would leave her alone. _  
_ Rey's pupils get blowed, her nostrils quivering.   
After a second, Ben realizes that if he's the heir of two proud parents unable to explain each other their feelings, Rey is the grandaughter of a similar man. She turn on her heels and run away. _  
_ After another second, quitting the door, he is determined to show who will win a match between Han and Leia Solo and Professor Obi Wan Kenobi's legacy.  
First trial: go for the girl.  
- _Rey!-_

 

-

 

 

_-Rey!-_  
Her name. This _damn man_ is using her name. _  
"Miss Kenobi"_ would be prefered for the circumstance, even if this circumstance would mean a wild chase in the central wing Departement staircase.  
Still running, Rey tries to don't focus about the fierce, hot flame burst in her heart realizing how beautiful is hearing her name from his mouth.  
  


_Stupid girl, stupid stupid girl!  
_

Jumping two steps, she grabs the handrail to keep the balance.   
Just a second, another stairs flight, another corner. She's light and fast, she knows that.  
Just few seconds, holding breath, care on foodsteps.  
All this shitty situation started for childish arrogance - _run, don't think!_ \- but she can't stop. A civil confrontation would be prefered, involving two smarts and capaple minds but in front of Professor Solo, in front of _Ben_ , all her diplomacy fades away, leaving only emotions, insticts, natural reactions.  
Escape is just one of them. The most foolish one, the easiest one that doesn't set for her, and her pride. Pride and bravery are gone, showing to herself another Rey: unsure for the first time in her life against a strong feeling like that, she can't control it, It's her prey like never happened before. _  
_

_Why?_

Her inner quality for finding answers was the most appreciate one.  
For the first time, the only answer she needs, refuses to show up.  
Other steps, another corner _-not so fast!-_ and behind her, his heavy, likewise fast footsteps.

_He never give up right?MY LUCK, YEP!_

Just another stairs flights to the hall, she's near.   
Balance, run and-

_No!_  


Someone is taking her wrist, grasp it with long fingers.

Rey's body and skin recognise before her own brain: they are strong, calloused. This new perception becomes outright a piercing needle sticked in her feelings.  
Her head bowes for a second and snaps up immedately. She knows her eyes are full of boyled humiliation and anger, she is ready for the worst consequences, determined to face him until the end, no matter what but-  
Rey finds his gaze.  
Her heart drops.  
For no reason, she feels Ben Solo's heart do the same thing.

 

 

 

-

  
  


 

She's _damn_ light and _damn_ fast.  
He didn't expect it.  
Ben always think of her as a storm but now he's chasing a stubborn little sprite. God, where is gone his rationality?  
He just saw Rey on the corridor, stopped the elevator's door, happy to see her again after days. So they could explain the _problem_ , fix what is broken, place the right distance.  
Instead of all these brilliant plans, that girl turned and ran to the staircase.  
After a moment, he didn't hesitate. Ben could be a severe professor, but he's also a _very_ curious man, so he quitted the elevator and followed her. He wanted only to understand.  
-Rey!- Yes. _Understand_. That's why is chasing a fresher, fighting against an inner, deep fear.

_You have lost her_.  
_No way.  
_

Miss Kenobi could be a damn good runner but her escape has no sense and irrational things disappoint Ben's spirit. He loves calm, pondering situation, the familiar duo action-reaction. It's a good way to not lose his temper and face that fire he always had from childhood.  
People, his own family, many colleagues and some enemies address him as " _genius_ ". Only Poe and uncle Luke know the truth.  
His determined willing hides years of solitude.   
A sensitive child with parents always around the world, too busy for growing him with attention and care. They admired his talent but fear it at the same. Same thing for the people around him: too frighten to his recognitions, academic awards and fast career, they never get to see the real man behind a title, and a too much famous name.  
But Rey is different. She smiled at him, talked to him with no second thoughts, without flattering _.  
_ She blushed and looked right in his eyes _,_ his soul like his heart had buzzed on the same path of hers, right from the start.

_Actions._  


He stopped that damn elevator door one week ago.

_Reactions_.  


He doesn't want to lose her now.  
With a sudden desire of egoism, Ben reaches his personal storm and grab her wrist. In a second, Rey's heart pulse reverberate under his fingers, drop his heart ad starts a new reaction.

It's called _collision_.  
  
  


 

-

 

 

They stay silent, mouth parted, little pants in their breath.  
  


They stay motionless, the sensation of their first touch forming an incredible, irony chain between their arms.  
Nothins have changed: empty stairs, white-blue walls around them, the last light of a windy Semptember day out the narrow, high landing window.

They still closed, like is the only way to stand upon the terribile storm born in their bodies. They can feel each other heartbeat.  
Despite the reddening on her cheecks, the outbreaking panic of every bones -so stretch now, ready for be break under this terrible pressure- Rey keeps focus on Ben's dark eyes. Now _really_ dark. A strange shadow, wondering and _more than this_. The kind of _more_ that she's not ready to discover and at the same time, she desperately wants to know it. _  
-_ Please.. _.-  
_ No. She didn't whisper it. She didn't really beg for being pressed against the nearest wall like the way _he's doing_ _right now_. Her feet are shaky as her knees, and he's is so tall, impressive, the heat of his chest under the taylored dark shirt is so real, so palpable.  
 _-_ Stop me _.-_ he murmurs, lowering his voice, in return. _  
_Not a cocky order.  
With ragged voice, Ben's imploring her to give an end to their mutual madness.  


_Who started?  
_

The tip of his nose is touching hers, Rey's writs is stoned prisoner of his fingers. A body against another one, small and big but both trembling the same way.

_Oh.  
_

Only the silence gives them peace.  
-Your lips. Are soft, just as the way I imagined them.- Rey hisses few, crumbled words after their kiss. Their _collision_ has just happened. No one could regret it.  
Ben bloody knows it's wrong, forbidden but above his teaching duties, his reputation, there's some more important things and a storm of sensations he can barely tame.   
So fine. Rey's skin grain is smooth, warm, he could spent hours to taste it with slow, circling thumbs over her cheecks. Her lovely face, peppered with flush and freckles, so near to his, clutched in his hands, seems small and fragile. And she's looking at him with half open, liquid eyes. Gold, green, brown melted by-

\- I want to kiss you again- states sharply, trying to hide his confusion with an odd, obvious comment.   
Rey's desire are too clumsy, pure and intense to face without consequences. Ben wants drown in it, to reach again the primary impulse that pushed on this girl from the first time.  
A quick nod, no words.  
Rey tastes this brief, short waiting inhaling his scent, feeling the scrap of his short beard on her chin and shudder suddenly before surreder.  
His teeth on her lower lip. A little, urging bite and she opens her mouth while her blood, her body roaring with anticipation.  
  


They're must be scared themselves for their reactions. Feel guilt. _Stop_.  
But how can you stop yourself, when you finally find something miss for a long time? Beyond lust, dreams and fantasies.  
Ben's tounge liks hers with a full, slow spin and pulls off.  
Gold, green and brown again. Rey's gaze is strange in his. Is trembling and glassy by a tear's veil bus she's keeping a big, panting smile.  
When she realizes is coming to cry, Rey shakes her shoulder.

-Oh, I'm sorry!- starts to whine -It's not you fault, please, dont' think- I don't know what the hell is wrong in me but-  
Silently, two long and strong arms wrap up her hips, pressing her against a massive chest. Under her right hear, Rey starts to listen to a ritmic, booming sound.  
-Can you hear that?-  
Ben's voice is deep. Warm like his kiss.Ragged like is breath.  
-Yes- answers shortly, as too many words could cover this beautiful hearbeat.  
-So don't be afraid.- He whishpers through her hair.

- _I feel it too._ -  
  
  
  
  
  
_  
_  
  
  


 

 

 

  
  


 

**Author's Note:**

> After years of writing in Italian, I must say "Thank you!!!!!" to my lovely, great friend Antonella.  
> Great beta reader, great Reylo shipper, great english editor!  
> May the Force be with you, deary.


End file.
